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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24636535">Morning Sunshine</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/james/pseuds/james'>james</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Cats and Witchers, Oh My [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Fluff, Hints at Polyamory, Humor, M/M, Mild Angst, Non-Human Jaskier | Dandelion, blatant misuse of a lute who never did anything to anybody, cat!Jaskier, hints at Witcher shenanigans, hints at panic attack (not graphic)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 01:28:34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,362</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24636535</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/james/pseuds/james</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Geralt would like to not be a morning person, but it's hard to sleep through someone sitting on your face.  His day does not immediately get better.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Cats and Witchers, Oh My [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1771585</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>624</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Morning Sunshine</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Geralt woke up when Jaskier sat on his face.  In cat form, at least – one time Geralt had woken up because Jaskier had sprawled on his head in his human form, but the bard had been extremely drunk and Geralt had only growled at him and wrestled him into bed.</p><p>(Later, when Jaskier was sober, Geralt had done more than gently growl.  Well – fine, he'd just growled more intently, and Jaskier had grinned and looked innocent and blamed <i>Geralt</i> for letting him keep drinking.)</p><p>Over the plentiful nights they had spent together, Geralt was learning to sleep through a lot of Jaskier's night-time antics.  When Geralt mediated, Jaskier tended to curl up quietly in front of him, or nestled against his leg, and sleep, purring loudly enough that Geralt was dimly aware of it throughout his meditation.  It was restful, so Geralt had never tried to dissuade him.  </p><p>Sometimes, however, Geralt liked to indulge in actual sleep – and, okay, once he'd got used to it he liked to curl up with Jaskier and cuddle.  But often as not Jaskier would fall asleep with him in bed, then get up in the middle of the night to do – cat things.  </p><p>Geralt had lain awake once or twice, and watched Jaskier inspect every corner of the room, chase a leaf across the floor, and stare into a completely empty corner for half an hour as though he knew Geralt was watching and wanted to mess with him.</p><p>Of course come morning, when it was time to pack and leave, Jaskier was content to sleep soundly.  Geralt had taken to simply picking Jaskier up and placing him in one of the saddlebags.  When sound asleep and purring, Jaskier was rather adorable and Geralt found he didn't mind carrying him along.</p><p>Right now he was not adorable.  It was fucking early, Geralt could tell before he even opened his eyes, swatting at the cat and smirking as Jaskier tumbled from atop Geralt and onto the bed.  He landed half-twisted around, and gave Geralt such a look of shocked hurt, as though he couldn't imagine why Geralt could possibly be so beastly.</p><p>“The bed is big enough to hold three grown Witchers,” Geralt told him, because it had in the past done exactly that, waving his hand at the expanse of the bed.  One of the very few perks of being one of four sole survivors of the school – they'd all had their pick of the luxuries left behind.  “You could sit anywhere except for <i>my face.</i>”</p><p>“Mer-ow,” Jaskier complained as though Geralt were the one being unreasonable.</p><p>Geralt pushed himself up onto one elbow, glancing around just to make sure there wasn't something actually wrong with the bed – covered in ants or nettles or the wrong color bedspread.  </p><p>Jaskier dashed for the pillow and curled up right where Geralt's head had been.  Geralt stared at him for a moment, then sighed.  He rolled over and settled onto the other pillow, pulled the blankets back over his shoulder, and closed his eyes.</p><p>He heard the door creak open, then the silent-soft tread of two Witchers trying to sneak into his room.  Lambert and Auckes, most likely, as Eskel wouldn't bother sneaking, he'd just storm in – though now, Eskel knew he was as likely to interrupt Geralt and Jaskier in human form doing any manner of things, so he'd started knocking or just waiting until they emerged.  Over the past few days Eskel had grown completely used to Jaskier, treating him like a normal cat when they were downstairs around the others, and helping him tease Geralt when they were alone. Which was entirely not the reason he'd brought Jaskier along.</p><p>Vesemir wouldn't bother knocking either, he'd just yell from halfway up the stairs, and Mordain was probably still in bed, sleeping for as long as he could get away with it.  </p><p>Geralt gripped the knife under his pillow and flung it towards the torso of whomever was in the front; the clang and clatter of the knife being knocked aside and falling to the ground was as he'd expected.  </p><p>It was the thought that counted.</p><p>“So hurtful,” Lambert said, and Geralt opened his eyes.  Indeed, it was Lambert and Auckes. They'd stopped halfway across the room; Lambert folded his arms and glared at Geralt like <i>he</i> was the one who was being annoying.  Auckes craned his head a bit and spotted Jaskier.</p><p>“We have something for your cat,” he said, and Geralt kept his expression placid.</p><p>“He bites,” Geralt said, and he saw Jaskier's ear twitch.  He couldn't really tell if Jaskier was laughing at him, or annoyed.</p><p>Well, often it was both.</p><p>“You woke me up to tell me you have presents for my cat?” Geralt asked, when the other two just stood there, not moving.  True, he had a few more knives handy, but it wasn't like he actually expected to deter either of them from intruding on the remainder of his quiet morning.</p><p>“Hey, pussy,” Auckes said, in a sing-song, stupid tone that Jaskier perked right up for.  Of course.  Auckes held up his hand, but Geralt couldn't tell what he was holding.  He kept making stupid kissing noises and waggling his fingers, and Jaskier – probably just to be contrary – walked over, climbing up and over Geralt and stood at the edge of the bed.  Auckes walked carefully forward, as though not to startle the cat, then reached out and rubbed his ears.  Jaskier leaned into it, because deep down he was a complete hedonist.  (And also not so deep down, as well.)</p><p>Then Auckes moved his other hand over and slipped a collar onto Jaskier's neck.</p><p>Geralt sat up, reaching for him immediately, but Jaskier leapt into the air, bounced off Auckes' chest, scrabbling away, and ran.  Geralt tried to go after him, but his foot got tangled in the blanket and he fell onto his knees beside the bed.</p><p>“Shut the fucking door!” Geralt yelled, as Jaskier made a beeline for the chair nearest the small bookcase.</p><p>Lambert and Auckes had stood frozen, shocked at Geralt's reaction, but Lambert scurried over and started to shove the door closed.</p><p>Too late, Geralt could only watch as a grey streak ran out.  “Fuck!” He got to his feet, kicking the blanket away and ran for the door.  “JASKIER!”</p><p>Lambert and Auckes stood and watched him.  Geralt yanked the door open and, as he'd known it would be, the stairway was completely empty.  He spun and glared at Auckes, perfectly willing to punch him, but he didn't want to waste his time.  </p><p>“What the fuck?” Lambert looked more annoyed than confused.</p><p>“Why'd you yell for Jaskier? He didn't come with you – did he get in last night?” Auckes asked.</p><p>Geralt felt like banging their heads together and clenched his fists.  “That cat.  Was Jaskier.”  He grabbed onto the only thing he thought Jaskier might recognise in his panic – his lute – and hurried out of the room.</p><p>He heard the others coming after him, and once they reached the bottom of the stairwell there was no sign of Jaskier at all.  </p><p>“Where do you think he went?” Auckes asked, and at least he had the grace to sound guilty.</p><p>“You could have fucking told us your bard was a werecat,” Lambert groused.  “Explains why Mordain was deadset on us making those catnip toys. He kept making <i>suggestions.</i>”</p><p>“Told us to make a tiny stuffed wolf so he could sleep with it,” Auckes said, and Geralt made a mental note to either punch Mordain as well, or buy him a beer if the occasion arose.</p><p>He looked from one end of the hallway to the other, trying to decide where to start looking.  If Jaskier got outside into the courtyard, there were any number of places he could go – but in cat form he wouldn't likely get anyplace where he'd get stuck or, really, in too much danger.  If he'd gone deeper into the keep, towards the labs or old barracks, there were places where he might fall through the cracks in the walls or flooring.</p><p>All of the doors ought to be shut, however, and the only open path was towards the dining hall and kitchens.</p><p>Geralt ground his teeth.  He had no fucking idea.  He had to pick one of them, so he headed towards the kitchens, on the chance that Jaskier might have fled along a more familiar route.  Certainly he'd become a fixture in the kitchen, getting underfoot until someone dropped food.  And Vesemir <i>encouraged</i> him by setting whole plates down on the floor.  Geralt gripped the neck of the lute and headed that direction.</p><p>“Jaskier?” he called, as he headed into the dining hall, looking around carefully for any sign of movement.  Lambert and Auckes trailed him, spreading out a bit to help search. He heard Lambert start with “Here, kitty,” and Geralt gave him a glare that said he would be killing Lambert, later.</p><p>Lambert just shrugged an apology.</p><p>There was no sign of Jaskier, so Geralt continued into the kitchen.  The others were already there, getting breakfast started; Mordain just glanced over then went back to cutting dough for biscuits.  Eskel blinked and stared, one egg still in his hands, dripping yolk into the bowl. Vesemir only gave the three of them one very paternal raised eyebrow.  Geralt wanted to point out this was not the strangest thing he'd seen them do.</p><p>“Have you seen the cat?” he asked.</p><p>“No,” Vesemir said, his tone indicating that he was about to ask Geralt if he were feeling all right.</p><p>“Fuck!”  Geralt glared at Auckes again, still willing to punch him for this, later.  He realised he needed to loosen his grip on Jaskier's lute, or Jaskier would kill <i>him,</i> as well.</p><p>Which gave him an idea.  Geralt grabbed a stool and sat down, resting the lute on his thigh.</p><p>“Geralt,” Vesemir began, and in about two more seconds Geralt knew he was going to get hit with Axii, to discourage any further unsettling behavior.</p><p>“They put a fucking collar on Jaskier,” Geralt ground out, and began fumbling at the lute's strings.</p><p>“They what?” Eskel's hand hit the edge of the bowl of eggs; he caught it and set it carefully on the table without looking away from Geralt.</p><p>Mordain pulled out a knife, and advanced on Auckes and Lambert.  “We didn't know!” Auckes yelled, and took half a step behind Lambert, who jabbed his elbow at him.</p><p>“A fucking collar--” Mordain said, and he started to make a lunge, but Vesemir had grabbed him by the back of his shirt and yanked him back.</p><p>“Not in the kitchen.”  He sounded tired, like maybe he'd had to say those words far too many times.</p><p>“If you're trying to lure him out with music, you're doing a piss poor job,” Eskel remarked.</p><p>Geralt kept plucking at the lute strings as ineptly as could without actually breaking a string.  He ignored Lambert asking what the fuck he was doing, when suddenly – finally –  Jaskier ran in, leapt onto Geralt's knee, and screamed at him.  He screamed again then butted his head against Geralt's hands where they were abusing his poor lute.</p><p>Giving Eskel a nod, Geralt kept plunking lute strings to keep Jaskier's ire and attention on him, while Eskel quickly snuck over and grabbed him with both hands.  Jaskier yowled and twisted; Geralt quickly set the lute down and grabbed him by the nape of the neck, holding his head as still as he could and pulled the collar off.</p><p>Jaskier switched forms immediately.  It took Eskel a moment to realise he now had his hands on Jaskier's very-naked hips, and he let go, stepping back and shaking his hands out, as if that would help.  Geralt reached for Jaskier, who dove for his lute even as Geralt pulled him onto his lap.</p><p>“What the fuck were you doing to my poor girl,” Jaskier demanded, checking his lute over for any sign of damage, tsking over the state of the strings and tapping at one of the tuning pegs.  Geralt settled his arms around Jaskier, ostensively to keep him from falling off Geralt's lap, but also because everyone was <i>staring.</i>  </p><p>The other just stood there, forming somewhat of a circle around them, watching as Jaskier made sure his precious lute hadn't suffered by being <i>grossly abused, Geralt, how could you,</i> with various states of open mouths.  Geralt glared at each of them in turn.</p><p>Well, Mordain was smirking.  Vesemir just still looked tired.  “Put some damn clothes on,” was all he said.  He turned back to the stove, and Eskel jumped to get back to helping, because he knew as well as any of them that Vesemir didn't like to tell you twice – or once.</p><p>“I can't believe I rubbed your belly,” Lambert said, sounding torn between disgust and disappointment.  At every opportunity that Jaskier had given him since they'd arrived, in fact, with Jaskier flopping down and offering his fluffy stomach to no one but Lambert.</p><p>Jaskier smiled at him, and leaned backwards against Geralt, exposing his stomach.  “You still can,” he said, and Geralt saw him wink.</p><p>“No, thanks,” Lambert said, raising his hands and taking a step backwards.  </p><p>“I will,” Mordain said, cheerfully.  Then, “Ow!” and he rubbed the back of his head, where Vesemir had just smacked it with a spoon.  Vesemir just pointed, and Mordain went back to the table and grabbed a hunk of dough.</p><p>Geralt thought maybe he should figure out how to gracefully extract he and Jaskier from the kitchen so they could go upstairs and get dressed.  Not because none of the Witchers had never seen one another naked before, but there was something entirely different about holding Jaskier naked in his lap while his brothers stared.</p><p>For a very long moment, they just sat there, Jaskier cradling his lute, Lambert and Auckles just standing like morons, still watching.</p><p>“So, do you still want the catnip?” Auckes asked.  Then he ducked as another spoon came flying.</p><p>Geralt stood up, holding Jaskier in his arms, and simply walked out.</p><p>Eskel whistled, but that was all right.</p>
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